If A Winchester Falls In The Forest
by sidjack
Summary: Dean is on the edge, but little brother is there. For PlatinumRoseLady who wanted Dean to break his promise, for T cause she knows, and for Mad Server, for her Ninja Beta powers and kindness beyond the call. Dont' own them, all errors are totally mine.


Dean stood at the edge of the large, marshy meadow. Shivering as the chill wind picked up, he glanced around at the plant life once more. He had been searching around the trees and overgrowth for almost half an hour now, and his back was screaming. Sam had insisted they stop there, as he thought they might be able to find a couple of rare, wild- growing herbs Bobby had asked him to keep a lookout for. It was a gloomy day, dark scudding clouds fat and heavy, thunder a mutinous echo that was giving him a headache. It had rained hard the night before, and the ground was soft and squelchy. Dean looked over his shoulder and could just see Sam's head coming along the trail. He blew out a breath, feeling drained, just wishing for the day to end. They were still forty miles out from the next town and Dean was just fucking tired.

The last job hadn't gone so well. Dad's mantra had always been that they couldn't save everyone. Dean knew that to be true in his heart. Despite three days of no sleep, little food and constant patrolling in and around the old cemetery, they had ended the case with civilian deaths. The witch had died; Dean had made sure of that, burning her with the Second Silver Fire incantation-but two teens in her coven had died as well. He'd listened to Sam telling him in a soft voice that there was nothing they could have done, but it just hadn't made Dean's anger or sense of failure any easier.

Sam had packed them up and Dean had driven off, not looking back.

Dean rubbed his face and turned back towards Sam, who was bent over, gathering something up off the ground. He watched, wondering idly which herb Sam had found. Then Sam straightened, and looked up, and Dean caught the glint in his eye at nearly the same time he registered the muddy ooze piled high in his hand. Dazedly, Dean saw Sam start the whipping motion. He tried to duck, but his reflexes were off and he took it hard on the side of the head. He was plastered in the cold, smeary muck that trailed down his face at the same time he felt it splatter over most of his upper torso. For just an instant, Dean stared at his little brother in shock…who was laughing so hard he almost fell over.

"Sam!"

Dean watched as Sam startled, eyes widening. Then whooping like a six year old, he quickly darted off down the back side of the bush laden trail. Dean narrowed his eyes and started after him.

SDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDS

Sam was running flat out, pushing it, alarmed but still staying slightly ahead of the pounding tread and growling directly behind him. He just made it to the high grass when he started slipping, plowing straight into the ankle deep water and muddy puddles hidden in the tall foliage.

"OH SHIT!"

Sam was tackled from behind just as he slid completely out of control in the water and weeds. The heavy weight now grasping him around his waist twisted and pushed him further along in the shallow water, propelling him another ten feet as he hydroplaned sideways through the ooze.

He attempted to keep moving, but his efforts were hampered by having had the wind knocked out of him and the pressure, like an overweight moose, that was now resting on his hips and lower back. In seconds his hands were pulled behind him, not painfully, but enough that his struggles were futile.

Sam twisted his head to the right, looking up over his shoulder. He snorted, grinning, still out of breath.

"You deserved it, Jerk."

Dean frowned, staring down at the back of his sibling's muddy head as he kept Sam pinned. He wiped one handed at the glop dripping down his face, and then stared at his hand, his tired mind and body slow, but finally putting the pieces together. He shook his head in disbelief.

"Oh, you are **not** bringing that up again, seriously? What are you, a girl? Sam, that was almost ten years ago!"

Dean's body aches kicked up a notch as Sam bucked, water started to seep into his clothes, fighting to find purchase in the muddy mess he was trapped in.

"Yeah, I remember it took six outdoor showers with the garden hose and freezing cold water before Dad would let me back in the house. You knew that stinky, rancid pond was back there, and you didn't tell me."

Dean stared at the dark horizon as Sam tried twisting out of his grasp. Dean ignored the increased pounding in his head from the crack of thunder, remembering how royally pissed Sammy had been when he had bolted out the back door of the old farmhouse and face planted right into the shallow, disgusting pond. How furious Sam had been, sliding out of the foul water, immediately racing off after Dean raging and cursing, Dean laughing and easily outrunning his incredibly stinky, smelly little brother covered in rancid, gluey muck.

"Get off me, Dean. You weigh a ton, _cheeseburger boy_."

Dean's eyes narrowed at the added insult and he shifted his aching body. Sam grunted as Dean leaned forward. An evil hiss in Sam's ear increased his struggles, but to no avail.

"Payback's a bitch, eh, Sammy?" Sam turned his head back around as green wet scum dripped from Dean's face onto his ear, and then cursed as he felt fingers inching along his ribs. He began giggling as the tickling increased, stuttering out, "Dean, y-you pro-promised." His voice trailed off in uncontrolled laughter.

Dean snorted, which didn't help his headache, but Sam was right. When Dad finally let Sam back in the house all those years ago, he'd refused to talk to Dean, totally ignoring his big brother. That had lasted almost three days, the silent treatment coming to an end when Dean ambushed Sam, tickling him until he agreed to talk to Dean again.

"I promised not to tickle you THEN. That was then, and this…" Dean tickled Sam until he was almost screaming with laughter, "…is now."

Dean sat on his little brother, mud and gunk trailing down his face and clothes from the giant handfuls of swamp slime Sam had lobbed at him, shivering a bit as some of the cold mud slid down his neck and inside his shirt. Dean listened to Sammy's laughter as he asserted his big-brotherly right to tickle the snot out of his little brother, past promises aside. He closed his eyes and sighed as he realized how rare that sound had become in their lives. Shivering in the cooler breeze, Dean saw the storm fast approaching. Releasing his brother's arms he stood and looked down at a muck covered and red faced Sam, who had rolled over and was still giggling, trying to catch his breath.

"You are so not getting back in the car like that."

Sam lay still, his ragged breathing finally evening out. Suddenly he looked up at Dean and smiled as he lay in the slime and mud that covered most of him. Sam shrugged, his grin searing straight into Dean's heart. Suddenly, Dean got it. ' Aw, Sammy.' The painful knot he'd carried in his chest the last week suddenly loosened in the face of his little brother's love and laughter. Sam, who could always pull him back in.

Dean swallowed thickly, clearing his throat behind a cough. Reaching down, he pulled Sam up and out of the muck and mire.

"Come on, Gigantor, I need coffee."

They trudged back to the car. Dean reached out to unlock the Impala's trunk. He rolled his eyes at Sam's muted snort when a chunk of mud that had been plastered on Dean's head fell off onto the trunk of the car with a loud PLOP! Sam immediately reached out to wipe the gunk off. As his hand reached the metal, another slimy pile of green goo fell off his own sleeve and dropped onto the car.

"You're cleaning that."

Sam wiped again but only managed to smear the slime over a larger area. He started to laugh again as he wiped at the mud with his shirts. His green and brown muddy, slime covered, dripping wet shirts. The mess just kept spreading further. Dean made a forlorn moaning sound deep in his throat, grabbing Sam's arm. Sam laughed even harder. Dean looked away, not letting Sam catch him smiling.

"I mean it, Dude; you're cleaning the whole car! After you walk your mud- covered ass to town."

Dean wiped at his face again as he felt the mud dripping near his eye, but only managed to smear the ooze worse around his hair and face. Sam howled.

Sam held his sides as the tears filled his eyes and ran down his face. Dean reached into the trunk, handing Sam a blanket to wrap around him. Sam was laughing too hard to take the blanket. Dean shook it out, threw it over Sam's head and turned back for the driver's side of the car. Opening his door, he watched as Sam's snickering form walked up along the side of the Impala like a tall brown ghost. He got in, the blanket still over his head, and Dean could hear barely stifled giggles coming from under the blanket. Studying the shaking form from the driver's seat for a moment, he shook his head at the amazing healing powers of little brothers. He started the car, then drove them to town.


End file.
